Watching You Burn
by WritingSchizo101
Summary: Sophie enjoys many things: manipulation, knives, the occasional fire . . . Emotion is nearly unrecognizable to her. She thrives on control. That is, until she finds herself at the mercy of a painted madman. Rated M for violence/sex. OC. Set during TDK.


**This is my first _Dark Knight_ fanfic! Enjoy!**

**Read & Review, please!**

**Betaed by Omega Afterlife and 3DG. Both of you are amazing! Omega corrected most of the mistakes in this chapter and any remaining erros are mine, not hers. 3DG- thank you, honey, for all your comments, insight, and encouragement! And your help with the ending lines. :)**

**~Writingschizo101**

**DISCLAIMER: I own nothing. Batman belongs to DC and I make no money from this. I mention Gotham City, events from Batman Begins, and Bruce Wayne in this chapter. I do not own them. Nor do I own the Joker, or any other characters from DK, who will appear within other chapters.****

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**Chapter 1. Smile**

"Here, here!" everyone said in unison, raising their glasses to show their agreement to the droning praise to which I'd zoned out. What's-his-face with the weird mustache and black toupee beamed proudly from the center of the room.

Beside me, Mother smiled broadly, tilting her head toward mine in order for her gentle voice to carry over the crowd's chatter. "I'm going to congratulate him." She paused as if waiting for me to say I would go with her. Instead, I shrugged, drained the rest of my allotted champagne, and watched her swim through the throng of fancy clothes, three of my sleepy younger siblings in tow.

"Here, here, Sophie." I jumped at the sudden voice in my ear but recovered quickly, spinning to face the creep with his arm snaked around my waist. Taro, a gorgeous Asian guy with bright eyes, grinned back at me— a councilman's soon-to-be stepson, or so I hear.

I pulled away, satisfied when the smile waned. "Don't." Though my own mask of pleasantry never fell, the warning in my tone was clear.

Taro dropped his hands, looking up through his lashes as he tried to play innocent. "I was just saying hi."

"Touch me again and I'll remove your thumbs," I retorted in a deceptively pleasant voice, slowly backing away so as to better take in his bewilderment. "Next time," I called, "stick with a handshake. Don't try to—"

Before I could finish, the combination of drink and attempting to walk backward made me stumble into someone. Strong hands caught me, keeping me from tumbling onto the well-polished floor. Finally steady, I turned around to thank him . . . and swallowed the words instantly. _Ugh. The richest, most annoying jerk in all of Gotham._

I curtsied mockingly but it only made him smile, and to my agitation, it even reached his piercing blue eyes. "Mr. Wayne," I mumbled, "my hero."

To my amazement, his eyes widened slightly, losing their laughter. I resisted the urge to smile in smug satisfaction because even though he returned almost instantaneously to normal once again, I _saw_ that. Bruce Wayne dropped his façade in front of my privileged eyes.

"Thank you," I told him with false vigor.

"Was it the shoes?"

"Huh?" I stared like an idiot for a full two seconds before he glanced downward, indicating my strappy heels. "Oh, yeah. I'm clumsy," I lied. The falsehood was effortless, yet Wayne raised an eyebrow like he didn't buy it.

"Or was someone bothering you?" His voice was the perfect balance of concern and protectiveness, bound in a velvet bow. I could see why the women— single or no— craved his company. The mask of the attractive millionaire bachelor threw even _me_ off, and for a moment, I considered telling the truth. Considered.

I shook my head mutely, wanting to scurry off. However, the way he was eyeing me left little choice but to stay and play innocent. I'm good at this game. I have to be for situations like these when the rich flock to fancy houses to mingle. That doesn't mean it has to be enjoyable.

"You know, Sophie, I could talk to him for you-"

"No, no," I protested quickly. "Taro goes to my high school. We were just playing." _Don't say my name again._ "I'm fine, really."

Wayne lapsed into a moment of silence, allowing both of us the opportunity to drop our smiles. My cheeks ached from so much grinning, but I'd suffered longer when with Mother's crowd, so I wasn't the least bit grateful. "Well, I'll talk to you soon," I managed to say before turning away from him at last. My legs yearned to run but I restrained myself as I crossed the room, weaving around little groups of people until I reached the far wall.

Mother was laughing a few feet away; the sound set my teeth on edge even though it was a genuine, pretty sound. The classical music, meant to be soothing or elegant, was grating on my eardrums. I wanted out of this wretched place, away from people like my parents, Bruce Wayne, and the man who won whatever award we were celebrating— liars, all of them. At least I admit it.

Before anyone could notice a lone teenager skulking among them, I rushed for the nearest exit.

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The streets were dark, but peaceful. Slowly, my body relaxed again, the ache in my cheeks from the false smiles eased, and my hair tumbled freely around my shoulders. I tossed the bobby pins and clips on the ground, only keeping the one my grandmother gave me for my birthday.

Twice, I felt as if someone was watching me, their scrutiny waking shivers, but I refused to turn around and give whoever it was the fearful response he was after. Instead, I led my creeper to a busier part of town, thinking the lit, crowded area would make stalking less plausible. Gotham's streets seemed longer, wider in the darkness. Despite the lights ahead and the safety these familiar streets promised, my chest tightened, my breathing quickened, the blood rushed in my veins, my muscles strained to move _faster_— and I realized I was afraid_._ Afraid or panicking or both.

The sensation proved uncomfortable and so, clutching the bedazzled hairpin until my fist ached, I ran. For a moment, all was quiet. Rapid footsteps behind me interrupted the night's whispers and though I kept moving, I didn't think I'd get very far. The pool of light cast by the streetlamp ahead became my safe haven, promising to ease the sting in my chest and burn away the fear threatening to consume me.

I skidded to a stop beneath the yellow glow and when I finally turned to face my pursuers, I did so with cool confidence. _No need to worry_, I decided, _just Taro and his friends. _

The vile sensation alleviated slightly, but my legs continued to tremble. There were five boys in all, two of which were small enough to deal easily in a fair fight . . . but Taro's steadfast determination says otherwise.

The wind blew across my damp skin, whipping my hair in of my eyes. I caught Taro's smile through the thick strands before I quickly brushed the hair aside, piling it atop my head as best I could with the hairpin. Surely, I looked terrible— sweating and unkempt, shaking and pale in the lamplight, but still they advanced.

I recognized Taro's older best friend by his red hair but the other's names escaped me. One of them was all brawn with long black hair, maybe about eighteen or so. Taro and his best friend were my age and of medium height and build. The smaller boys flanking Taro were identical in appearance, one with dyed brown hair in a pathetic attempt to differentiate himself from his blonde twin. Those two, at least, were no threat to me, for they did not try to conceal their unease, their reluctance.

I let the small handbag I carried fall to the ground, enjoying the way the blonde twin's eyes latched onto it. Unoriginal motivation, but motivation nonetheless. Hopefully he'd already been paid, for I had no money to take, weekly allowance denied to me because of 'behavioral issues'.

It only took a few seconds for the strange procession to cross the intersection separating us. With each step closer, the feeling in my body grew stronger. I bit my lip and tasted fear. Gagged. Stepped backward once, only once.

Taro was on me in an instant, unable to wait to take what I gave willingly last time.

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_This boy was tempting, for not only did he hold power over me in terms of social stature and wealth, but he had the potential to be weakened, to be subservient. He wanted me, I could see it. Those two elements combined meant trouble for him, for how could I resist such a strong urge to seduce?_

_I'd asked him out the day before, happy when he said yes immediately, when he asked where I wanted to go, when I told him it was 'a surprise'. See, I'd already done my research: Taro Hara— 17 years-old; excellent student; born in Japan according to his cousin, though his family came to America when he was three; dead father; one younger brother; name meaning 'first son' in Japanese. How creative. He was the type of boy my parents would approve of, rich and powerful so long as his mother remained welcome in that council member's bed. Taro was also just the type of boy to rebel against it, unable to relinquish his love for his father._

_So, so easy. On top of all that, I could see in his eyes that he was interested. My outfit wasn't designer— I'd dressed for the occasion, everyday clothing with a cute bathing suit underneath— but he seemed to appreciate the tightness of my jeans. When he picked me up that night, I settled back into the leather seat, smiling shyly. "Just drive," I told him._

_We engaged in trivial conversation, nothing of which I could remember later. I directed him toward a spot I knew well— a lake in which my family and I used to spend time. I had to admit, he was good at hiding surprise. The only indication was the way his hands tightened on the steering wheel as we idled behind a grove of trees. "Come on," I said cheerily, getting out of the car without waiting for a response. I jogged through the trees, pulling my shirt over my head as I went, certain Taro saw the top half of my black bathing suit. _

_I slowed when the car door slammed behind me and bent to remove my shoes, tucking my earrings and hairpin safely inside. "Hey, Sophie?" he called. I ignored him, removing my jeans and crossing the few feet ahead to splash into the calm waters. _

_"Sophie."_

_I turned to face him, the water up to my waist. "Yeah?"_

_"I, uh, don't think we should be here," he said, rubbing the back of his head in nervousness. "Don't you remember? The water supply—"_

_"— is fine," I snapped. Reigning in my impatience, I softened my voice. "You drink water, don't you?"_

_"I—"_

_"Your house is within city limits, is it not?"_

_He looked ready to protest, but glanced away and answered with a reluctant, "Yeah."_

_"Exactly." I leaned backward, wetting my hair and catching his eyes when I straightened. "Even if there was a toxin in the water supply, it would have affected you already. Besides," I added, "we don't even know if that was true. Sounds awfully far-fetched to me."_

_I hid my doubt well, apparently, for he nodded, pulled off his shoes and shirt, and joined me. We were both liars— I found that intriguing. He hid his true fears behind false ones. Compared with toxins, the inability to swim didn't seem as fun anymore._

_More pointless conversation and playful splashing ensued. Finally, he kissed me, and I pulled away before our make-out session could escalate further. I took his hand, pleased when our proximity had me blushing slightly. In the pale moonlight, I knew he could see that, and played it off as nervousness. Taro kept his hand wound in my hair, whispering sweet nothings while I batted my eyes like some lovesick doll. "Let's go," I replied, unable to hide my smirk. No matter, he didn't notice. I was pulling him in the wrong direction— away from the shore. _

_"Wait."_

_I bit my lip a little harder than necessary. "Won't you swim with me?"_

_"Uh, Sophie . . . I don't really want to—"_

_"Swim. With. Me." My voice wasn't harsh, exactly, just sharper than I'd intended._

_Taro sighed, but after a moment of deliberation, pressed his mouth to mine again. The kiss was hungry, the intensity almost distracting me from the way his fingers toyed with the strings of my top, undoing the knot around my neck. I smiled and reached up to tear away the piece, exposing my breasts. _

_"Much better," he sighed, and let me lead him into deeper waters._

_I patted Taro's back, feigning concern, as he fell to his knees on the shore and coughed violently. "Why didn't you tell me you couldn't swim?" I asked. "I wouldn't have . . . I mean, you didn't have to . . ." I knelt beside him in ankle-deep water, clutching my wet bathing suit top to my naked chest, eyes wide._

_He didn't answer, just gasped for air and stared bewilderedly at the ground. _

_"When— when I grabbed your ankle . . . I was only playing."_

_After what seemed like hours, he caught his breath and turned to me with a small smile. "I know."_

Good.

_"Are you sure?" I touched his cheek, lowering my mouth to his. "I want to make it up to you."_

Play along.

_"Well, there is one thing . . ."_

_I didn't hesitate, just stood, grabbed his hand, and lead him back toward the grove of trees. He seemed surprised at how easily I took charge, but I couldn't pretend anymore. This night was more exhausting than I'd planned; I just wanted to go home. _

_It didn't last nearly as long as I hoped, but my dominant position kept me satisfied. Despite the arousal, the fear of his watery endeavor never quite left his eyes, a fact I couldn't help but relish. _

_In retrospect, I decided my first time with him could not have been much better. I had what I wanted, and those eyes would stay with me for the rest of my life. However, my submissive toy was bitter toward me on the way home. He didn't even kiss me goodnight as I expected. Instead, he simply deposited me on the front porch and turned to get in his car. I called goodnight to him, and when he glanced back at me, I saw a coldness in his eyes I wasn't expecting._

_As I watched his car vanish, I became aware of an unfamiliar sensation in the pit of my stomach. One could compare it to being on a roller coaster ride, the way your insides feel after a sharp downward slope. Only I felt empty, not energized or panicky. A hollowness exited where adrenalin should. _

_Anger clouded my mind, urging my nails to bite into the skin of my palms. Of all the sensations of which I had no name, _this_ was by far my favorite. When it eventually passed, the only evidence of my distress were faded half-moons. Inhaling deeply, I willed my body to relax. I shivered as a light breeze stirred my damp hair, so I let myself inside, already prepared to tell my family how well the date went. I'd pretend to have a few more dates with him, and then lie, saying we weren't compatible. _

_My older sister, Noel, pounced as soon as I entered the kitchen. "Guess what? We've been invited to another partly! I can wear my new dress and—" She paused in her gushing, scrutinizing me. "What happened to your hair?"_

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**A/N: Point to ponder: What's wrong with Sophie? :)**

**For those who read my _Avatar: the Last Airbender _story, _Children of the Sun_, chapter 7 _is_ coming. :) Let me know how you feel about this story and I hope you enjoy it as much as you did my previous one. Let me know how I do with a more modern style, a darker character. I adore you guys- as well as anyone else who who wants to read or review my stories!**

**R&R**

**~Writingschizo101**


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